


No Compromise

by beautifullyheeled



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexuality, Bisexual John, Demisexual Sherlock, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, References to Addiction, References to Suicide, Slow Burn, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exploration of life, in its grittiness and its most beautiful. </p><p>This will be both a post as well as pre Reichenbach. There will be flashbacks. In this incarnation, they have known each other off and on in their young adult life. Bumps and times spent together before John's military service. Then lost to youth for years until a chance meeting lead them back to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “You tasted it. Isn't that enough? Of what do you ever get more than a taste? That’s all we’re given in life, that’s all we’re given of life. A taste. There is no more.”  
> ~ Philip Roth
> 
> Read this quote tonight and it really stuck with me. This is all I seem to discuss lately, the taste, the bittersweet of life, how we taste in timidity instead of gulping down greedily. How we hardly ever hold on with both hands and take from life, fearless because our life is wondrous and terrible. Embracing even in the most terrible of odds. 
> 
> We can do better.

The flat was alive with music, piano specifically, which was abnormal. For it to be being played not listened specifically. He stood in the entry and listened as he looked for sign of movers on the walls or banisters... ah there it was. The skuff, very small, was no less telling. So a full upright had taken up residence in their flat... interesting. John didn’t seem that out of practice either... also something to file away for later.

 

This facet of John was not surprising in the least, especially as dexterous as he was being predominantly left handed, no the surprise came as Sherlock realised that he knew the tune even though it was contemporary pop music. The composition was slightly slower than he knew the song to go, but he could hear the small changes John himself had made. How much longing and mourning were brought to life within the simple tune.

 

_“Love of mine, some day you will die... but I’ll be close behind...”_

 

It had been years since he had heard John’s voice... and to be gifted with this at his return shook him somewhere deep.

 

_“I’ll follow you into the dark...”_

 

His eyes closed, his body leaned deeply against the wall.

 

_“Just our hands clasped so tight... waiting for a hint... of a spark...”_

 

He knew he had little time, felt the need to run to him but could not bring himself to quite yet. For all he knew John did this often now, but he still felt every word... felt he would be intruding... was intruding.

 

_“I held my tongue as she told me...  fear is the heart of love... so I never went back... ”_

 

Yes, while Sherlock had died, John had married. Divorced now. Had become a teacher now of sciences for one of the public schools from what had been filtered to Sherlock during his time away. He built a life after. Sherlock knew that John would be good with children... a good father. But that was the cruelty of it all wasn’t it?

 

_“If there is  no one beside you when your soul embarks... I... will follow you into the dark... “_

 

John’s clear tenor had roughened with unshed emotion, possibly hidden all this time.

 

_“You... and me... we have seen everything  to see...”_

 

Was it possible?

 

_“And the soles of your shoes are all worn down... the time for... sleep is now...”_

 

After all these years that John still felt as he had even then? They had been so very close, had loved each other deeply.

 

_“Cause we will hold each other soon...”_

 

They were not quite everything to each other, obviously, but they also had never mentioned how much they were either. It was too much to give even a breathy sigh to lest it caught and pulled them to ash.

 

_“In the blackest of rooms...”_

 

So they cherished, poked fun, walked away when it was too much-

 

_“If there's no one beside you... when your soul embarks...”_

 

Sherlock ran finding his feet up those seventeen steps and threw a prayer that he was hearing everything wrong. That it was his heartache that ruled over him, that John hadn’t finally given up on him.

 

_“Then I'll follow you into the dark.”_

 

“John-” It caught at his throat, the name he had murmured deep in the night to empty walls. The rest clung deep arresting his breath at the sight of the aged sandy blonde that had more silver shot through. His best, only friend. His blogger, his doctor. His John.

  
The silence that answered was deafening.


	2. Chapter 2

“On the roof... there was no time.” Sherlock filled the empty air with the first thought that crossed that was coherent.

 

_“I’ll sing it one last time for you... “_

 

John sat still and unbelieving on the bench, the gun pointed center mass at Sherlock.

 

_“You’ve been the only thing that’s right... in all I’ve done.”_

 

“Please... John. It’s really me, I-”

 

_“I can barely look at you but every single time that I do I know...”_

 

“I owe you a thousand apologies, I had no idea you would still be so affected-” His voice stoppered caught itself on a sob he hadn’t known had escaped.

 

_“We’ll make it... anywhere... away from here...”_

 

“I owe you my life, John. Anything.” The tremor took up in his hand as it had deep in the moors long ago. Another lifetime it seemed. “Please-”

 

_“Light up, light up...”_

 

"John, my singular purpose- my conductor of light- I have a million words and I cannot seem to express my sincerity enough." Where was John’s spark? His kindness? His joy?

 

_“Even if you cannot hear my voice... I’ll be right beside you dear... “_

 

“You- I had thought- Jesus...” The breath John had held escaped as he clumsily stood, placed the gun down and took a step forward. “Sherlock? Tell me this is real.”

 

_“Louder, Louder... and we’ll run for our lives...”_

 

“Yes, John.” The clarity came, the strength of so many unsaid promises bolstered it. “I’ve come ho- back to-” What he wanted to say kept failing to come. “I’m here.”

 

_“I can hardly speak I understand... Why you can’t raise your voice to say...”_

 

“But there’s been nothing.” John’s anguish was palpable. “For years, I hoped. I got on with it... my life. But I had- Christ!” His breath caught as he brought himself up to full height. “Sherlock...”

 

_“To think I might not see those eyes... “_

 

“I had no choice. If you recovered my mobile you should have been able to know the truth of it... I had no idea if I’d actually live through the- everything was in place but there is never one hundred percent in these situations.”

 

_“Makes it so hard not to cry...”_

 

“Everything I said, between the lines John, as Mycroft and I used to do as children. All of it... the sentiment was there.” Even now the tears threatened once again and he had to wonder why they weren’t shed. “Do you understand?”

 

_“As we say our long goodbye I nearly do...”_

 

Two steps is all it took for John. Two steps and then John’s arms were around him holding him close. Welcoming him in once again. “Don’t you ever-”

 

_“Slower, slower... “_

 

“Not again, not ever.” It felt so good to have John’s weight against him. To hold him, be held. He wondered- “John?”

 

The question brought John’s head up, hope and more in those clear blue eyes.

 

_“We don’t have time for that... all I want is to find an easy way...”_

 

The kiss to John’s cheek was chaste, but Sherlock hoped it spoke the volumes he could not. He held John a bit tighter and hummed into the warmth.

 

_“Have heart my dear, we’re bound to be afraid...”_

 

John answered with a gentle hand under chin. A soft brush of lips. No pressure for more, but returned waves of long- unspent emotion right back. How was- Sherlock trembled once again, full body this time as he took the feel of John in. He couldn’t-

 

_“Even if it’s a few day... making up for this mess...”_

 

Sherlock could, and would for John. For them both. “I don’t... this isn’t my area...”

 

_“Light up, light up... “_

  
“As if you have a choice, Sherlock. I know... known. It's fine.” John smiled. So soft and understanding even if Sherlock could see all the rest John was processing behind this moment. “I’ll be right beside you, in it with you. I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Run (Snow Patrol)


	3. Chapter 3

The first time they met John forgot; Sherlock though, he remembered.

 

How could he have forgotten someone as brilliant as Sherlock?

 

_“When I was young, I knew everything... And she, a punk, who rarely took advice.”_

 

“God, how do you remember this stuff Sherlock, really? That was... “ John stopped and though a moment. “That was at the end of ‘97. How do you even know?”

 

It had been forever ago.

 

The first life he ever lost.

 

_“Now I’m guilt stricken, sobbing with my head on the floor...”_

 

She was a fellow student, they knew each other well. When he had found out she’d been harming herself, he had warned her. Now he wished he had turned her in.

 

_“Stopped a baby’s breath and a shoe full of rice... no...”_

 

Then he found out that wasn’t what had ended her, no of course it had to be even more tragic. If he could... he just couldn’t believe it.

 

“Wasn’t your fault John.”

 

All he could do was sigh at that, what do you say?

 

“I can’t be held responsible, she was the one who-” His voice gave out.

 

_“She was touching her face...”_

 

“-it always seemed so forced. I never could get the right of it.” Better. At least he finished his sentence.

 

“Well you have it now, even though it is belated.”

 

_“I won’t be held responsible... she fell in love in the first place...”_

 

 

**October 1997**

 

John was finishing (what should have been) his last year out, had been so happy. So determined. Then he’d met...

 

_“For the life of me, I cannot remember...”_

 

... Amelia... and they had a good working relationship but he grew concerned one day when he noticed bruising. Then scars. On her biceps, inner arm, easily hidden.

 

_“What made us think that we were wise? That we’d never compromise?”_

 

He’d warned and then talked with her often; she’d come to him if she were low stating her boyfriend just wouldn’t listen. That all he wanted was sex and she felt she had to, because that’s what you did right?

 

This still hurt John, even now. Especially now as hindsight was always so damned perfect.

 

_“I cannot believe we’d ever die for these sins...”_

 

He’d even gotten to know the boyfriend a little. Tried to talk to him, to impress how much Amelia was fragile. He’d played that little piece of information right into the bastards hands.

 

_“His girl took a week’s worth of valium and slept...”_

 

But it hadn’t been her after all... no. She was pregnant and didn’t want an abortion. Wanted to keep it, but boyfriend wouldn’t hear of it. Christ... it seemed as plain as paper now.

 

_“And now he’s guilt stricken... “_

 

She really wasn’t awful, she had just been headstrong and wanted to protect herself. How had he missed it? Not seen it? Her preference to abstinence... saying he always made her more comfortable because there were no expectation, just friendship?

 

_“Thinks about her now and how he never really wept...”_

 

She had been so kind. And he had thought all this time that she had withdrawn then suicided... God he was stupid... as an adult and with all the experience behind him he began to wonder how others had missed it. The ones with more experience... the police even. Everyone had taken it for granted. Saw the scars, the prescriptions, not the girl as a whole person.

 

 

**2012**

 

_“Tried to wash our hands of all of this...”_

 

“Not your fault John... you know I hate to repeat myself, but I can see-”

 

“Shut it.” He was genuinely upset. Idiot. Really. “I should have seen... it’s my job as a doctor... and now I’m-” No, best to leave that alone.

 

_“We’d never talked about our lacking relationships...”_

 

No point to it. We were different than others for different reasons.

 

“Joh-” Sherlock tried. He really did, he’d solved a cold case that John hadn’t even known about dealing with a death of someone he was connected to in only the loosest of meaning. Even then, it hurt him. To know he might have been able to help.

 

_“We fell through the ice...”_

 

“No! Sherlock, just let me... for a moment. I had no idea... I... I feel responsible and guilty. She came to me...”

 

_“We tried not to slip...”_

 

“... She was... well I think she might have been... well it doesn’t matter now does it?”

 

_“She fell in love in the first place...”_

 

“Just because she was asexual does not mean that she could not care deeply for someone, John. Surely you understand this?”

 

“Yes, I can. And don’t call me Sherly, that’s your pet name not mine.” The jibe came out which didn’t help his mood at all. He needn’t take this out on Sherlock, it just made John more upset to think this could affect him in the here and now.

 

_“I won’t be held responsible... She fell in love... in the first place...”_

 

“That is most certainly not my name, and do not ever call me by such.” Sherlock huffed but concern still weighed heavily, it was in his posture. The way he was over-still... too watchful. “This was never your fault, I’m just sorry I didn’t get on this in my time there. I still cannot believe you do not remember me from Chem-”

 

“I don’t know... I barely remembered her until... look can we drop this please? Her killer is dead at any rate. It was a long time ago... I’m going to-”

 

“Go lie down, yes. Please do, maybe it will fix your mood.”

 

With that John really got round the twist and knew better then to take it out on Sherlock, none of this was his fault... not one bit.

 

_“For the life of me I cannot remember what made us think that we were wise?”_

 

“John?” There was a tentativeness to Sherlock’s voice that was rarely there.

 

“Yes...”

 

“I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want to know.”

 

“Know what?”

 

_“We fell through the ice... “_

 

From one minute to the next he was beside John, his hand lightly resting on John’s wrist.

 

“That I remembered you... you’ve been with me all this time, John.”

 

“Your conductor of light, yea? Some conductor I was when you-”

 

“Please,” Sherlock worried his lip momentarily, gave the little eye flick and huff when he tried not to be impatient. “Go sleep. Your mood is getting steadily worse.”

 

_“What made me think I’d never compromise?”_

 

“Yea, alright...” He hesitated. John hadn’t asked permission, but Sherlock’s body language was more expressive and open; he felt he had it right. He leaned in toward Sherlock and hugged him gently one armed, allowing him to keep hold of John’s wrist if he chose, before letting go just as easily. John turned towards the stairs easily disengaging from the hold Sherlock had on him. “Good night.”

 

Sherlock’s cheeks had pinked a bit, but the smile was genuine.

 

“Sleep well, John.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: The Freshmen by The Verve Pipe)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drug Usage. Attempted Suicide. Anonymous Sex. "Bookends" next chapter.

**Early 1996**

 

_Back door cracked we don't need a key..._

 

Walk through without the wait outside, his own brand of swagger just what this place needs. They let him in knowing he’ll light the place up.

 

_We get in for free..._

 

The shorter blond at the bar is fucking sex. All innocent. Med student from the looks of it. Might be nice later to hook up with someone as sweet as that.

 

_Follow my lead, now you're one of us you're coming with me..._

 

He yanks the fit good boy to a darkened office. Was barely even lit enough in the club, but they were ready and hard and young. Anonymous blowjobs and cocaine were this place’s staples... well almost at any rate.

 

_It's time to kill the lights and shut the DJ down..._

 

The beat is relentless tonight. The DJ is fucking murdering it the highs are just sublime... then the fucking drop.

 

_Tonight we're taking over... no one's getting out this place... about to blow, blow..._

 

Seven. Percent. Solution.

 

So very subtle, the buzz in his veins. The lightning speed of his thoughts, his body responding, his ‘feelings’ dulled. Now where did that cute med student get to?

 

_Dirt and glitter cover the floor... we're pretty and sick... we're young and we're bored..._

 

He knew it was his last night. So tired of it all, he could give a damn. He’d chosen here with care knowing no one would give a bloody ‘nother look at a hot lanky clubber. Wouldn’t stop him for taking too much, couldn’t be watched enough.

 

_It's time to lose your mind... and let the crazy out..._

 

Oh! There he was... wondered if pre med would come slum a bit before he passed out.

 

_Tonight we're taking names 'cause we don't mess around..._

 

He reached him, and pulled him into a kiss.

 

_This place about to blow, blow..._

 

Instead pre med started asking questions. Why? God his mouth.

_Go insane, go insane throw some glitter, make it rain on 'em..._

 

He was on the floor, sweet innocent looking worried. Maybe he was off... early. Marvelous.

 

_Let me see them hands... Let me, let me see them hands..._

 

The last thing was laughing. Happiness. That fucking mouth and the words he couldn’t hear anymore.

 

_We're taking over..._

 

Paramedics, he was told later revived him. They’d thought he might have damaged his heart this time. All he could hear was the soft begging of some anonymous stranger.

 

_Get use to it, okay..._

 

God, if he’d only went then. He’d been happy blissed out on coke, sex, and that mouth.

  
 _This place about to blow, blow... this place about to blow, blow..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ke$ha ~ Blow (Deconstructed)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-Reichenbach Return. Character-death of sorts. But all works out. Bookend to chapter Four.

**2016**

 

“This is fucking ridiculous, Sherlock.” John spat out. “You... you can’t mean it. Now? WHY?”

 

“John-” Sherlock tried to speak, John cut that right off.

 

“No. You do not get to fucking talk, alright. You are going to shut your god damned mouth!”

 

_I miss your soft lips, I miss your white sheets... I miss the scratch of your unshaved face on my cheek..._

_And this is so hard 'cause I didn't see that you were the love of my life and it kills me..._

 

“I loved you... s-still love you. But Mary?” His friend... love... ex... paced, sighing rubbing his forehead. Hard. “Mary... I just... she was supposed to...”

 

_I see your face in strangers on the street... I still say your name when I'm talking in my sleep..._

_And in the limelight, I play it off fine but I can't handle it when I turn off my night light..._

 

“YOU DIED!” John clapped his hand over his mouth. “You died, Sherlock. I still... no you know what? You don’t deserve to know what the hell I went through.”

 

_They say that true love hurts, well this could almost kill me... young love murder, that is what this must be..._

_I would give it all to not be sleeping alone..._

 

“Alone.” He looked at Sherlock, his eyes betrayed everything as tears ran on both sides. “You weren’t supposed to leave me... alone. You go I go? One for the other? Where the fuck did that go?”

 

_The life is fading from me while you watch my heart bleed... y_ _oung love murder, that is what this must be I would give it all to not be sleeping alone..._

_Alone..._

 

“John-” The pain. He was knocked to his knees. “Not... no...”

 

_Remember the time we jumped the fence when...You held my hand and they made me cry while..._

_I swore to God it was the best night of my life..._

 

“Sherlock!” John’s hand flew to his phone dialing then some buzzing... words... oh! That mouth...

 

_We promised that this would last forever but now I see it was my past life, a beautiful time..._

_Drunk off of nothing but each other 'til the sunrise..._

 

“Thought’d be staying this time...” He gasped the constriction, kicking against it to breathe... “So-”

 

_The life is fading from me while you watch my heart bleed..._

 

“NO! SHERLOCK” He could see the brightness, his eyes losing focus. “I’m here, stay...”

 

_Young love murder, that is what this must be..._

 

“Don’t you make me...” John’s words strangled as he had to start compressions. “Not tonight...”

 

_I would give it all to not be sleeping alone..._

 

“Mouth-”

  
 _Alone..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ke$ha ~ The Harold Song (deconstructed)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hospital. Mention of surgery.

_Step one – you say, "We need to talk." He walks, you say, "Sit down. It's just a talk."_

 

Yea, what a lie that’d been. He’d been thankfully blessedly alive, John’s heart soared. Then plummeted as reality shifted back in to view.

 

_He smiles politely back at you, you stare politely right on through... Some sort of window to your right as he goes left, and you stay right..._

 

He’d not known what would have come of it. Sherlock had to go and have a heart attack, couldn’t even come home correctly could he? Their relationship... all those nights held tight... more well loved and secure then any one night stand... any empty relationship that he’d had because he could. No, theirs had been work. Was precious.

 

_Between the lines of fear and blame and you begin to wonder why you came..._ _Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere along in the bitterness..._

 

“Any news?” Greg asked, placing his hand on John’s shoulder.

 

_And I would have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life..._

 

“Surgery. It’s not good.” What else could he say. He hadn’t even known about the defect.

 

_Let him know that you know best 'cause after all you do know best..._ _Try to slip past his defense without granting innocence..._

 

“Christ John, that grim?” Greg sat with him in one of the horrid chairs. “Myc knows-”

 

“Great. Fine.” Anger, he could work with this. “I’m sure he knew plenty-”

 

“No, he didn’t... any of it. Some sort of- hell I don’t even.” Greg’s words die off.

 

“I love him, Greg.”

 

_Lay down a list of what is wrong the things you've told him all along..._

_Pray to God, he hears you..._

 

“I love you, Sherlock... I’m right here. Holding your hand. I’m here.”

 

_And pray to God, he hears you..._

 

“I’m so sorry. I- you never told me you daft idiot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

_And where did I go wrong? I lost a friend... somewhere along in the bitterness..._

_And I would have stayed up with you all night..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fray ~ How to Save a Life


	7. Chapter 7

**2009**

 

“What you wanna know about?” John looks at him their first night over Chinese.

 

_Won't mean to tell you all of my sins, yeah, you first._

 

“Well I’ve gotten most of it correct. What is there to know?” The arrogant toff spoke, one eyebrow raised. God, he was hot. This was trouble in the making... then again when had he shirked where danger was concerned.

 

“Do I like poker?” John smirked and took another bite.

 

“Poker? Dear God, why would I care?” Sherlock continued to look him over. “I’m not much for parlour games. I know. The cabbie... your shoulder. There’s a scar yes?”

 

_One shot and you got me and this scar everybody sees on me,_

 

“Yes, physio if you must ask. Only reason I have full mobility.”

 

_Baby, it says that I'm with you._

  
  


**2010**

 

“Damn it you bastard!” John could not believe the insanity. “You can not-”

 

“Oh, that’s it John- so mature-” Sherlock snipped.

 

_Yeah, we fight every day..._

 

“You need to stop taking these chances with your life Sherlock! People do care about you, you daft scunner!”

 

“Oh! Hae I ya back up?” Sherlock snarled. “Why doncha go runnin then?”

 

“Oi! Fuckoff!” John growled back.

 

Down the seventeen steps and one slammed door later into the night. He couldn’t clear his head of the thought of him... of Sherlock... the idiot was going to die one day because of some noble intention... some last lead he had to chase...

 

_I never felt like this, you shot me through my heart..._ _All eyes on me in the middle of the street screaming out your name..._

 

Later, in his room John closed his eyes, the thought of him continued. He’d fought it but he’d begun to adore that voice. That mouth... Those hands. The quick wit and scathing words. The summation. He was done for.

 

_It don't matter, it don't matter, it don't matter, it don't matter... I_ _t's all good..._

 

The knock on his door hesitant. This was new.

 

“Yes?” John answered. “Come in.”

 

“Do you want to stay up all night?” Sherlock came into the sitting area. “Do you want to scream and shout-”

 

_I’m your number one... don’t you get that..._

 

“I can take it,” John sighed as he sat up. “Take it all... the messed up things that... we are...”

 

“You’re my blogger John, my friend-”

 

_I'll take it all, boy, you better turn up your stereo..._

 

“If you don’t want to hear it, don’t put yourself in that type of danger! Don’t placate me with platitudes you do not mea-”

 

“John, you’re my only friend.”

 

_You shot me through the heart... you are my favorite scar..._

 

“Then just listen sometime.”

 

_You are my favorite scar..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Favorite Scar - Leona Lewis (for fic purposes)


	8. Chapter 8

**2016**

 

“It’s been a full day, John.” Lestrade had come by to check in on the two of them after shift. “Is this normal?”

 

“Well, it is now in some cases.” He answered. “The body is a funny thing. His vitals are about where they should be, his tests show no immediate sign of stroke... we just don’t know. We do know that at first it was due to hypoglycemia, hopefully the drip will control that. For now they are keeping him deeply under to give him time to recuperate. We aren’t sure what the neurological side effects are either.”

 

_Don't you wanna stay here a little while? Don't you wanna hold each other tight?_

 

“I’m sorry Greg, but I just don’t feel like company. I... need some time with him.”

 

“Yea, it’s fine.” He gave John a meaningful pat on his shoulder. “Call if I’m needed, if not I’ll come by tomorrow.”

 

_Don't you wanna fall asleep with me tonight? Don't you wanna stay here a little while? We can make forever feel this way... don't you wanna stay?_

 

Lestrade closed the door steeping the room in quiet darkness, the only lights on were the monitors and the weak secondary light coming from the bathroom. John pulled his chair closer and took up Sherlock’s hand again.

 

“Please, oh holy Father, let his burden be lightened, let him heal.”

 

It was not often that he prayed, or cried. But he’d found he’d done more of both in the last twenty-four hours than all of his childhood. He knew they’d see where Sherlock was at tomorrow, but he was also a doctor and knew most bets were off. They’d just have to see what happened when they brought him around.

 

John stood for a moment so he could reach Sherlock’s hair. It felt so soft and too long under his fingers. He kissed his lips solemnly as the tears fell to wet both of their faces.

 

_I really hate to let this moment go... touching your skin, and your hair falling slow... when a goodbye kiss, feels like this..._

 

“Well, where you go, I go my love.” He gave a small wry chuckle. “Let’s hope it’s home in a week, yea?”

 

_We can make forever feel this way...don't you wanna stay?_

 

“I’ve never wanted anyone more... to have you in my life...” John held fast to Sherlock’s hand. “You are so very brave and such an idiot and I just want you home and well.”

 

_Let's take it slow, I don't wanna move too fast..._

 

“If we’re never... I don’t care.” He kissed Sherlock's cheek this time. “I love you, all of you.”

 

_I don't wanna just make love, I wanna make love last...When you're up this high, it's a sad goodbye..._

 

“And I swear to you... if you’re leaving me... I’ll throttle you on the other side.”

 

He sat back down in the chair, exhaustion beginning to finally nip at his heels. He knew he’d wake up with the sunrise. A few hours wouldn’t hurt.

  
_Don't you wanna stay?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't You Want to Stay ~ Jake Bruene (for fic purposes)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag for this chapter: ref. of scars from self harm.

2012

 

John made his way into his rooms. He hadn’t meant to be defensive about it. As he opened his door, he looked back down the opening of the stairwell towards the open parlor. The notes of one of Sherlock’s compositions beginning to fill the solid old victorian. He left his door cracked.

 

_And I’d give up forever to touch you, because I know that you feel me somehow..._

As he sat in his chair, John relaxed into it. Felt. Everything. He’d fallen in love, known it, not stopped it. But really, he was fine with that; he had known and it was alright. How couldn’t it be?

 

It was Sherlock, the man even that first night... John chucked to himself. Even then, the magnetic pull had been there.

_You’re the closest to Heaven that I’ve ever be and I don’t wanna go home right now._

He’d rather be downstairs with the man then here, sequestered, but they both knew better. John had been was so close to it. The saltiness had his the back of his throat as he snuffled and swallowed the hole in his chest. Sherlock understood John could cope. It was just that sometimes, sometimes his emotions didn’t agree. They’d spill, messily in anger. Bitter and short. His tears were something won quite bitterly and it looked as if he’d lost tonight.

 

 _And all I can taste is this moment; and all I ca_ _n breathe is your life._ _When sooner or later it’s over... I just don’t want to miss you tonight..._

John could hear Sherlock’s melody quite clearly one floor down. If he were in the room it would have overwhelmed him. Filled him too swiftly, spilled him over, laid him bare for Sherlock. Even now, he couldn’t fight the pull one floor up from the closet friend he’d ever had. As the tears spilt John closed his eyes in the darkness of his rooms and allowed the flood to come.

 

_And I don’t want the world to see me because I don’t think that they’d understand_

_When everything is made to be broken... I just want you to know who I am._

He’d not heard the steps on the treads, hadn’t heard when the music had stopped, but Sherlock was there nonetheless. Sherlock sunk down to his knees and sat; placed his hand on John’s knee. Remained quiet and still... closed his eyes. Comfort. Not alone. This.

 

“Thank you.” His voice was broken, but it was fine because it was only for their ears.

 

 _And you can’t fight the tears that aren’t coming or the moment of truth in your lies..._ _When everything feels like the movies..._

“You’re not alone.” Sherlock played with the slight raised lines that had told a story of not so long ago.

 

_You bleed just to know you’re alive..._

“Not that bad...” He’d not even thought of it. “Not a danger night.”

 

“Not for me.” The baritone whispered. Sherlock’s text notification sounded; Lestrade. He unlocked his phone then purposely shown John he was turning it off. “Not tonight.”

 

John placed a hand over Sherlock’s.

 

“Thank you.”

 

 _And I don’t want the world to see me, I don’t think that they’d understand._ _When everything’s made to be broken I just want you to know who I am..._

 

The soft press of curls and warmth of Sherlock’s cheek against his soothed something. Didn’t heal... the bruise was too deep... but he could take a full breath for that moment.

 

_I just want you to know who I am..._

 

In the end, they settled back downstairs. Tea in John’s hands; violin once again in Sherlock’s their story being spun by the crystalline notes that lit the small space keeping the ebon depths, once again, at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iris ~ Kurt Schneider (for fic purposes)


	10. Chapter 10

2015

_And I don’t even know what... but he’s coming for you... yeah, he’s coming for you..._   
_All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better run better run... out run that gun..._

Venice. He had no feeling one way or the other until now... now he swore he’d never come here again. Sherlock inhaled the sharp smoke letting it fill his lungs. He needed so much more then this... nicotine just wasn’t doing it anymore... but John would disapprove.

_He’s got a rolled cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he’s a cowboy kid..._

Another inhalation, mark of time. The night deep around him as he waited against the backside of the wall his rifle ready for the signal.

_Daddy’s worked a long day, he’s coming home late bringing me a dark surprise..._   
_Dinner’s in the kitchen and it’s packed in ice... I’ve waited such a long time._

Trevor. Daddy’s pretty face for the business. Moran. The real person left to finish tying the ends up.

Reason with my cigarette, “You’re hair’s on fire... you must have lost your wits.” A dark chuckle. John would love that wouldn’t he... shorn tight but still unruly on top. “Better run... better run...”

The signal, the call. One short vibration brings him to the scope.

_All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better run... better run... faster than this bullet..._

Even old lovers deserve a quick clean death.

_Outrun my gun... run run run... outrun my bullet..._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for bearing with me as I work through the finish of the serious fics I have been writing. Some of you that know me know that I had fallen ill again recently and I want to thank you all for the support and gracious patience you all have. I refuse to let it stop me, but for a minute I needed to catch my breath, find a few really excellent Beta's and move forward. 
> 
> Thank you so very much for reading. 
> 
> ~Bo
> 
> Song: I Will Follow You in to the Dark (Death cab for Cutie)


End file.
